Indecent truth
by Himes
Summary: Slowly I was able to write without the constant presence of the master by my side, without telling me what to write or show me the movements to do it properly. Slowly I was also able to write what other people in the house said to me: "Tiberius is a slave", "Tiberius costs two coins", "Tiberius has not friends", "Tiberius is a whore."
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello!**_

_**This is my first english story so i'm sorry if my english is not good!**_

**1.**

A letter, then another letter and even a letter.

Seven letters took shape on my arm and remained imprinted forever. Line after line, my hand would not stop to trace the route of each letter, to go along with the dark dust.

Tiberius, that was my name.

It was the first thing I learned to write.

Day after day I saw always the same letters and the same movements. Day after day, I imitated those letters and movements. Day after day I had learned.

Leddicus was usually to tell me what to write: "Tiberius is a nice boy", "Tiberius has two coins", "Tiberius has many friends."

Slowly I was able to write without the constant presence of the master by my side, without telling me what to write or show me the movements to do it properly. Slowly I was also able to write what other people in the house said to me: "Tiberius is a slave", "Tiberius costs two coins", "Tiberius has no friends", "Tiberius is a whore."

Leddicus had discovered quickly enough, his fury, however, was not dissipated just as quickly.

But it was not mad at me, knew that I would never be able to write in a language that was not my own, something that I had never heard, knowing that my thoughts had not such deviations.

The fury of Leddicus had hit me when I had initially refused to reveal the author of these words.

I was young and naive, I thought that if I kept the secret the others had accepted more easily. But that was not the case.

It was then that I learned what was right and what was wrong.

Right, wrong, good, bad.

Were the categories.

I had learned and I realized that it did not matter what others say of me, because the others were wrong, why say "Tiberius is a bitch with tongue too long" was wrong.

Right, however, was a small key tattooed on my right shoulder: a symbol of possession and power Leddicus poured for me.

Right was that possessed only me, because I was the master's carnal slave.

Just me.

"Tiberius".

Lips that were not mine pronounced my name, calling my mind lost in old memories, those made of images and words, poor faded colors and embarrassed sounds.

Leddicus had never liked the rooms too bright. With wrinkled fingers lazily followed the outline of a lighted candle, the only light source. The flame seemed to play chasing his fingertips, unable to reach ever.

The shadow of the imposing dimensions took his seat on the wall behind him, while mine is barely visible, completely outdone by her. As our entities in life: my figure paled compared to his.

While I was curled up in front of him on a bed of pillows, stretched out a leg, translucent purple dress I wore slipped gently downwards, exposing the bare side.

The wrinkles of the face of Leddicus became more pronounced, for a moment.

The silence was restored among us, just fragmented by imperceptible whisper my name, it was so clear that it is completely audible the slow passing of the fingertips on my legs.

The master watched the sinuous gait of my fingers started from the ankle and then disappeared beneath the hem of my dress, and climbed the stairs formed by my ribs, I could count them one after the other, I had the impression that he never known so well my body. It seemed that I lived through myself and through my master.

No hurry bent the other leg, and the garment, open in front, slid to the sides of my chest.

The candlelight drew an interesting play of light and shadows on my skin.

"Why you are not wearing the gold dress, Tiberius?".

I smiled: "It's old," I whispered, slipping on the carpet and sitting up, swinging the robe I discovered entirely shoulder. "But if you want I will wear it again" I said, turning my head towards my bare shoulder.

The candle was about to go out at all, but the heat seemed to have become even more intense. Our eyes could not turn away from each other.

I got up, suddenly, and with a slow pace I walked over to him. The dress swung at every step up to slide completely to the ground, with a swish curled around my bare feet. I reached my master. The hand of Leddicus imperceptibly touched the outline of my naked side. "I will grant your every wish," blew, sweet and sensual. Slowly took one of his hands and I followed with my lips sturdy profile of his fingers.

His forehead beaded with sweat. I knew he was shivering from the desire that had my lips to dry. "Yours is a slow torture, Tiberius," his voice trembled. "You know that I can not give voice to my wishes. My age will not let me. "

Sighing, I gave up in his arms. Leddicus put me on his chest. "My little Tiberius...".

I closed my eyes and opened them again. "You kill me", took his hands, large and rough, and I put them on my chest. "You kill me, denying me your caresses. I have lived all my life for them"

Leddicus brushed with his nose my hair from my neck. Intensely, sniffed the smell of my skin. "I do not want to kill you."

"Yes, you do! If you really want to do it thrust me through with your rod!" with one hand I followed curls of his gown at the pubic, testing with my finger the outline of his soft sex. "But gently".

I stroked his cock feeling it grow and come alive under my touch. When Leddicus was built at all, I drew the sword and prepared meat and muscle to sink within me. Pierced me, slowly, to the hilt. Entered and exited in a succession of movements became faster. His blade went through several times.

"Tiberius… Tiberius ... I'm ... I'm ... Oh gods ...", moaned, and I felt his penis harden and swell inside my body.

When death was near, moaning, I exploded in a mild orgasm. Mild but satisfying. My abdomen was flooded with a viscous liquid, which slowly slipped on the carpet as white blood, then I crouched down between his legs to accommodate his pleasure.

His member knew about me and him.

Our flavors were united, just as were our bodies before they returned two.

I swallowed it all, in silence, with his hands Leddicus caressed the base of my neck and tugged my hair. While orgasm dissolved his body and his penis became soft, I abandoned them and getting up quickly, with a white stream that was running down my chin. I picked up it and with a finger I took it to my lips, for no particular reason, just for the pleasure of seeing my reflection in the master's eyes.

Leddicus rested, tired, his forehead on my belly dirty, he kissed my navel and then leaned against my abdomen. I ran a hand through his hair, faded by time. I loved playing to put my fingers in the rings formed by his curls.

"You'll be my death", he said, moving his mouth against my skin, the impact of his hot breath on my lap wet made me shudder.

_You already are._

The words that followed killed my thoughts: "You'll be the death of any man," he sighed, closing his eyes, his eyelashes pleasantly tickled my belly.

_Any man..._

The movement of my fingers stopped, those words swirled in my mind to stun me.

Squeezed my eyes, annoyed.

Leddicus was my man. Him was a first for me and him would be the last, if I would not have other masters after him. Several times I had seen the other slaves of the house lying between them, at the beginning I also envied them: their slavery did not prevent them to love who they wanted. Mine did it. But, after all, that was my slavery, but I did not consider it as slavery.

Leddicus had never treated me as a slave. Him had bought me, it is true, but also educated, trained, bred. Maybe even taught, but I could not imagine me alongside another man.

"Tiberius ...", his voice aroused my attention, and his eyes were drowned in my eyes, trying to suck my thoughts from the irises.

A slight smile pursed my lips, "I want to go to bed," I muttered, wearily, and the key on my shoulder burned as it if had just been tattooed. Was she remember me which was my place in the social order. Without it I would never be able to say "I want" to my master. A slave the word "will" should not even think about it. A slave whatever, maybe. But I, with that key, I was not.

"Never my ears have heard the sweetest melody."

My smile widened, "You would have been a good poet."

He slowly stood up and adjusted his robes, dissolving our embrace. "Honestly," he said, staring into my eyes.

I kissed him on the lips, "I know."

Slowly, Leddicus, raised his hand and placed it on my neck, along with the fingertips the outline of my collar. Him played with the underlying skin, caressing her with his lips. His mouth moved to my ear and kissed it loudly. A tingling annoying buzzed in my head, but that did not stop me smile again. "Our alcove is cold," I whispered, while his hands caressed my naked back.

"It would be good that you went to warm it up, then. I'll join you, I have to give the last orders to others. "

The others, called them always so in my presence, out of respect. Perhaps he thought that if he said the other slaves I would have offended, but I would never deny my body. It was my job to give it to him.

Leddicus feared that what bound me to him were only a collar and a tattoo, and that without them I would have taken refuge in the arms of another man. Maybe younger and beautiful. Maybe.

The back of Leddicus slowly disappeared from my view, becoming a white spot getting smaller and faded into the background of the dark corridor.

I yawned.

I was tired.

I felt that my body needed sleep.

I walked over to the bed and lay down between the sheets. My hands traversed paths: slid on my belly and then went towards the neck, across the chest. The right hand went alone to the left arm, stroking my name. "Tiberius", I uttered it. "Goodnight Tiberius."

I collapsed on the pillow and came to my mind days, words and emotions.

The candle had burned completely.

_**Thanks to read my story. I hope you like this chapter!**_

_**Leave a review if you liked it!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Was it day?

Maybe.

The room was shrouded in darkness because of the little moonlight that filtered lazily through the window, placed where the wall met the ceiling, from which it was impossible to see the outside of the house.

My body was tired to sleep.

I felt strange.

Alone.

I looked around.

The body of Leddicus was not by my side.

I gasped.

Was seldom that the owner abandoned our alcove before I wake up.

I sat cross-legged on the bed, bed linen twined around my legs, as tongues of cold fire, cover my nakedness.

"Good morning".

I jumped.

Scared.

That cold voice dug into the skin of my back to remain planted: my lips parted to let out a silent scream.

I turned slowly.

Very slowly.

The rustle of sheets made from the background to my movements, with the neck muscles ached from the awkward position, my eyes began to focus on a profile unknown, hidden in the shadows of the room.

Something gleamed in the darkness: blades.

The stranger was holding a sword, apparently very sharp; stroked the tip with his fingers.

The only detail that I was able to capture that strange figure, shaded from the darkness, were two bright blue eyes.

His eyes were brighter than opals and sapphires.

The night was streaked with metallic sounds, as the bloody sword that the stranger was holding. Sounds are cleared up to become real groans, moans turned into screams and tortured without end.

I looked again at the stranger. On the tip of his sword swung lazily cloth. Threw it on the bed near my legs: it was damp. "Use the cloth to clean up your body".

Skeptically I arched an eyebrow, "_I would have figured out by myself, but thanks for the help!_"

I bit my lips.

I was determined to speak not to him, even if we spoke the same damn language.

Him was not worthy to listen to the voice of my thoughts.

I wiped my body with the cloth, wiping numerous times on my belly. There my encrusted seed glowed when hit by the moonlight.

I did it more for myself than to pander to his orders.

Orders.

Only those able to bestow who was wielding a weapon.

Just like a tyrant.

Tyrant of life and death.

I slipped out of the sheets, showing indifferent.

Indifferent to his presence, that made me painfully twisted stomach.

Indifferent to the sound of his breathing, which cut the silence that had settled between us.

Indifferent to his eyes, which probed every curve of my naked body.

I dressed quickly, picking up from the ground a white cloth, from fine cloth from distant lands, and tying it around my waist.

I felt my bare feet stick to the floor like the tentacles of an octopus.

I heard some voices outside the room getting closer and closer.

Were coming.

Meant that the stranger was not alone: predictable beasts.

Animals always moved in a pack.

Slowly, behind the stranger, were outlined silhouettes of two dark figures, apparently formless, surrounded by a light and reddish background. Fire. Foreigners had with them the fire.

The flames reproduced and distorted shadows of foreigners along the walls of the corridor. A shadow was more massive than the other. Surely it was a man and a woman, or two men, one of them was particularly delicate and feminine. Their position, however, confirmed my first hypothesis: did not move next to each other, although the width of the corridor permitted, but in a row. The first loomed on the second, beginning with a loud voice his supremacy against the more slender.

The shadows took on a human profile, after a few minutes.

I smiled, unconsciously.

A man and a woman.

Studied them carefully and I realized how those two human figures manifest their possession to one another other.

It was a couple.

But it did not seem one of those couples in love, their closeness was sharp and clear, he brought with it only the wake of the sweetness of true affection.

It was a couple forged by tragic conflicts and severe hostility.

It was a couple who, in the natural order of things, would never have formed.

One of the many.

Among which there were even I and Leddicus.

Leddicus ...

... where was him?

A strange warmth enveloped me the bowels.

I was worried.

So worried.

"Agron" said the second alien, his voice low and deep. It was a voice devoid of uncertainties. Secure. It was a leader's voice. "What did you find?", his blue eyes fixed me.

I snorted annoyed.

Bothered me that they were talking about me as if I were not there, but above all they were talking about me like I was an object.

"_What did you find?_" instead of "_Who did you find?_."

Agron pointed me with his sword, pointing the tip toward me. "He slept in the bed of pig roman."

Leddicus, his name flashed in my mind... _pig roman_...

The only pigs were them, too bad that they are unable to perceive their stench.

But I could.

And I was sick.

A scream of terror echoed in the air.

It was an ugly and frightening sound.

My head began to swirl furiously.

I felt that I needed to sit down, or maybe I was.

_Leddicus, Leddicus, Leddicus, Leddicus, Leddicus ..._

It was his voice.

Those inhuman cries made me shudder.

Were torturing him.

"The dog recognize the voice of his master," Agron taunted me, curling his lips into a sneer.

I stared him with a raised eyebrow, keeping my silence.

I approached them with the only intention of overcoming them and see what state were the other rooms and the other inhabitants of the house.

As the distance between me and foreigners shortened heat and discomfort in my stomach intensified.

The woman drew back when I was at her side, allowing me to pass. Among the three seemed to be the most intelligent. A hand, claw firmly in my left arm, stopped me. The movement was so sudden that I did make a half turn on myself. "Where are you going, dog?".

I stopped.

I kept my silence, with my eyes fixed on a point in the corridor, decided to ignore the stranger.

His grip was intensified, his fingers seemed to penetrate my flesh.

Him would leave me bruises.

Sure.

Him turned me, with one hand because with the other clutching his sword, so that we could look in the face.

Him lowered his head to look me in the eyes, being taller than me.

I heard his blue eyes probed every inch of my face, insisting repeatedly on my eyes.

The vice that twisted my entrails doubled its power.

But I ignored it, or at least I tried.

"I asked you a question, dog."

I spat in his face.

I spat in his face my answer and my spit.

The fury blazed in his eyes with the intensity of a fire.

I was sure that him would cut my throat.

It would be enough just that him raised his arm and then him let fall in the right angle.

It would be a quick and painless death.

Death did not scare me.

It would save me all that I faced when I came out of that room.

Him hit me in the face with a slap, so strong and violent that I turn my head to the side, some dark strand that had gone on the face drenched in the blood that dripped from my split lip.

The woman gasped, her breasts full, which could be seen through the thin material of the worn dress she was wearing, they followed the sudden movement of her chest. I looked those smooth curves without feeling any desire.

"Enough," she whispered, her voice to imitate the litany of prayer. Her black eyes ran to meet those of the man at her side, while her slender hands twisted like snakes around his arms. Her lower lip, seized with a slight tremor, betrayed her apparent indifference. Was pleading. Was pleading for me, that my life was spared. "Let's come back from the others, will bring the boy with us."

_The boy_ was better than _dog_ as name.

"Mira is right," said the man.

I did not know his name.

His voice was firm and sure, powerful enough to bring down the head and the blade of the alien who had hit me.

"You're the boss," muttered Agron, obviously upset, grabbing me firmly by the arm. Him turned me, my gaze lost in the darkness of the corridor, so long as to seem endless.

His chest touched several times my back, while him dropping behind me. A hand suddenly slipped through my hair, fingers descended down until tighten around my collar. Him pulled back it, the leather pressed against my throat, my head passively followed the movement indicated. I coughed.

"The jewel that adorns your neck is perfect for your race," him whispered, with voice full of scorn, to my ear. "Did pig roman tighten it while he fucked you?", asked me, moving his hips against mine, as if him was fucking me.

I half-closed my eyelids, irritated.

And I avoided answering him.

Him did not deserve answers.

The movements that pushed his hips against mine stopped, but his hand will not let go around my collar.

I was a slave, for the first time.

His words and his deeds suppressed me with their intensity and ferocity.

"Let's go" barked the "boss", heading down the hall with the woman, Mira, by his side.

"Let's go, dog" growled in my ear Agron, showing me how in reality he was the real animal. Him struck me slightly to the right ankle with the toe of his shoe. I moved a step forward, then another and one more.

And each of them was accompanied by slight rubbing of the blade against my right thigh.

The stranger held his sword down at his side, I was certain that he was pushing it against me, to reminding me of its presence.

It was as if mocking meant to say: "Behold, I am here."

And I replied it with a scornful look. I looked once again the sharp blade slowly slide against my skin, then the floor of the corridor completely caught my attention.

Blood.

It was covered in blood.

But they were not fuzzy patches.

Were clear and delineated.

I looked in front of me.

Were foreigners to leave those tracks.

But it was not their blood, but that of the victims who had savagely trampled.

The soles of their shoes were soaked with blood, the crimson footsteps on the marble were proof.

The wet and sticky night was unbearable, worthy rival of the Underworld. I grimaced, annoyed, and rubbed my hands against my bare arms. The smell of blood was corroding my throat and nostrils.

My position gave me a clear view of the outer court, the figures of foreign adorned with shields and blades could be easily stocks, emerging among the many corpses of the roman guards of the house, fall after their arrival.

I looked them askance.

All of them.

I looked carefully corpses, one at a time, it seemed that there was not slave to each other.

I sighed, relieved.

"They'll kill us all!"

"May the Gods protect us!"

"Have mercy!"

The other inhabitants of the house did not seem to share my relief, though. Their concern, expressed by a whining noise, it was the background at night, and at the tragedy that had come to the house of Leddicus.

Leddicus ...

"Calm down, you should not have any fear," assured them the "boss", or at least tried to. The noise stopped, for a moment.

The grip against my collar was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and unbearable. I struggled, trying to externalize my annoyance, but this seemed more fun Agron, who strengthened his grip. I threw my head back, opening my mouth to channel more air. It seemed that the oxygen stopped height of my throat, just above the collar, under the form of an annoying bubble, without being able to reach the lungs. "Stand still!".

I followed his words, even if reluctantly.

Suffocation?

Surely that was not the death I wanted.

"Me and my friends do not want to hurt you," continued the "boss", climbing two by two the porch steps, reached a high position, to be seen by all. It seemed that his every gesture, even the most casual, would testify to who him was and what him was capable of doing.

But for me him was nobody, just a murderess.

"We came here for what is known as your master, a title that means nothing to us. And even for you if that's what you want. "

Leddicus!

His screams were arrested, several minutes now, I could not hear his voice again.

Maybe ... Maybe him was ...

I prevented me to think it.

The possibility of his death was a unreal and foolish thought.

The curiosity and anxiety about his fate corroded my limbs, in a slow torture. It seemed that those feelings were devouring me from the inside.

"Tiberius."

I turned, feeling pronounce my name.

A face that was very familiar occupied my field of vision: gentle and graceful whether, fine ivory lips, clear eyebrows and brown and deep eyes. Her was Lydia.

Her physique, skinny and straight, like the blade of a sword, made her look much higher than her was in reality. Her was a real living contradiction: blonde hair, amber skin, marked by the sun and by the hard work of a slave, fragile and hard, attractive and repellent, with the expression alarmed and hostile of the face.

"Tiberius," her repeated my name, accompanied by a sigh relief. Her seemed pleased to see me.

Foolishly, perhaps, I wondered because. Foreigners did not hit anyone slave, besides me, of course. But this is not guaranteed that they would not have done in the future.

I smiled, trying to lighten the furrows of concern on her face.

A sudden jerk the collar reminded me of the presence of the alien behind me. A rustle suspect told me that him was approaching more to my body, his mouth came up to my ear, so that Lydia could not hear his words. "Does your woman know that you sleep in the bed of master and his dick finds refuge in your tight holes?".

I avoided answering, once again.

I avoided to affirm or deny anything.

Lydia was not my woman, perhaps her had never really needed me, if not as a friend. Maybe I was never to have needed her as my partner. Perhaps the figure of Leddicus, looming over us, had never allowed our friendship to mature into something more intimate and profound.

Lydia's lips parted and I felt a little moan. Her pose, apparently rigid, staggered and was about to fall to the ground. Luckily we were close enough, I snapped at her, as the close of the alien would let me, and I grabbed before her fall.

With the eager gestures drew back her hair from her face. Her face seemed fresh enough, and her soft skin was not damp with sweat.

"Thank the gods you're okay, Tiberius! I feared the worst when they took the master! I knew you were with him and ... and ..., "said Lydia, in one breath, her chest rising and falling quickly. Her broke off suddenly, in her dark eyes I saw the reflection of my lips scarred by those vile and murderous hands, now encircled my neck.

Her fingers came near my mouth, I felt the burn skin contact with her fingertips. Her hands were freezing, or maybe it was my lips to be hot. "You're bleeding ... You're hurt!" her squeaked, away shooting her right hand from my face and watching her fingers soiled with blood with horror. It seemed that her eyes were about to spill out of their sockets, they were so wide.

Lydia bit her lips, with a sudden movement, and then caught the eyes of Agron, nailing those eyes the same color as the sky. "Is it fun to take advantage of someone whose tonnage is half of yours, right?", she hissed, angry ... and sad. Her was suffering for me.

His held her gaze, saying nothing, trying to appear indifferent. But I knew him was faking. I knew that the allegations of Lydia had bothered him more than it seemed. I felt out of his grasp on my collar, which had become more abrupt and intense, and the way in which the sword swinging dangerously back and forth against my leg. It would be rash enough movement and the sharp blade would be planted within my flesh.

Lydia inadvertently had placed her hands on my shoulders for support, as if we were fellow dance. A moment later our lips met, and her squeezed harder. As our lips touched just so absolutely chaste, I felt so oppressive grip of the stranger, hugged me very strong, as if him feared that I could escape. " Are his lips still with the seed that has sucked from the dick of his master?", he spat contemptuously.

The voice of the stranger "boss", which seemed to have voluntarily raised the tone of voice, interrupted us, killing the words of Lydia.

"We are here to offer you an opportunity: you can choose, we did it, submit yourself forever to the ferocity of the romans or the sword and fight with us for freedom."

He raised a new buzz:

"Freedom?".

"What are you saying?".

"Who are you to offer an alternative?" Lydia murmured, her voice low but firm and decisive. Despite resembled the purr of a cat in her voice was the same astonishment present in her eyes. Her straightened up, but I do not let her go. And her did not ask me to do so.

A lightning flash across the eyes of foreigners "boss," but his gave no sign of disturbance, acting as if nothing had happened, as if the words of Lydia they had not even mentioned. "I am Spartacus".


End file.
